HILARY?--YES, UNCLE?

Second half as well as first, the drill was ended. The low acacias and
great live-oaks were casting their longest shadows. The great plain
rested from the trample and whirl of hoofs, guns, and simulated battle.
A whiff of dust showed where the battery ambled townward among roadside
gardens, the Callender carriage spinning by it to hurry its three ladies
and Mandeville far away to the city's lower end. At the column's head
rode Irby in good spirits, having got large solace of Flora's society
since we last saw her paired with Kincaid. Now beside the tiny railway
station Hilary was with her once more as she and Charlie awaited the
train from town. Out afield were left only General Brodnax and
Greenleaf, dismounted between the Northerner's horse and Hilary's. Now
Kincaid came across the turf.

"Greenleaf," said the old soldier, "why does Hilary forever walk as
though he were bringing the best joke of the season? Can't you make him
quit it?"

The nephew joined them: "Uncle, if you'd like to borrow my horse I can
go by train."

That _was_ a joke. "H-m-m! I see! No, Greenleaf's going by train. Would
you like to ride with me?"

"Well, eh--ha! Why, uncle, I--why, of course, if Fred really--" They
mounted and went.

"Hilary?"